


Research and Development

by TCRegan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3984085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCRegan/pseuds/TCRegan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While evacuating Haven, Bull rescues Alexius from his cell. He never expected the friendship that came after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to dear Vee for the idea and the title. <3

The order was given. Save as many people as you can. Get them out of Haven and follow the path away from the impending destruction. Bull didn't necessarily agree with the self-sacrificing plan that would put the Herald right into harm's way, most likely destroying their only chance at sealing the rifts that were still popping up all over the damned world. But it wasn't his call to make. He was used to giving orders, not taking them, but he signed up for this shit, and he was going to do the best damned job of it that he could possibly do. Which was why he was ordering people through the chantry now, out the back, to find their next target. Commander Cullen would guide them to the next checkpoint and so on. One thing he found was that no one said no to a Qunari who was shouting at them to move their asses.

He scoured the last room, then stopped, suddenly realizing. "The damned dungeons."

With a grunt of frustration, he kicked open the door leading down the damp and the dark, all the candles doused at the moment.

"Anyone down here?"

From the darkness, a voice. "Here. What's going on?"

Of course it would have to be the thrice-damned magister. Bull tried to withhold judgment most of the time, and he wasn't particularly biased against Tevinter magisters. Assholes came in all shaped and sizes, after all, usually stemming from having just too much power. It just happened that this brand of power bred quite a few more assholes than the rest. He approached the cell, and saw the man inside back up somewhat dramatically.

"Yeah, yeah, get over it, unless you want to die here under thousands of pounds of rock and snow."

He reversed the grip on his sword and slammed the pommel against the lock once, then once again, and heard it the rusty iron break.

"You can use your magic?" Bull asked. Not that he really wanted this guy to be able to zap him with lightning or set him on fire the second his back was turned, but they might need the extra firepower.

"No." He held up his wrists so Bull could see the cuffs that Cullen had specially made for mage prisoners.

Bull grabbed his wrist, inspecting it, and growled in annoyance when he realized there was no way he could get them off. Not right now anyway. "All right, come on. Stay behind me."

"What's going on?"

"Your damned Elder One has a damned dragon and they're set on bringing down the damned mountain just to stop him."

Perhaps realizing his irritation, the magister fell silent, and followed Bull back up the stairs. The next checkpoint was empty, and Bull assumed Cullen went on ahead. He had half a mind to go back for the Herald, but there was little he could do to help, and he had to think of the others ahead who would need him. Still, he _liked_ the Herald, and it was a shame to lose such a good person. Maybe their Maker would look out for them. Bull scoffed. And maybe dwarven ale would stop tasting like nasty sludge.

They hiked quickly and in silence, and Bull was glad when the magister didn't complain about the pace. For an old guy, he kept it pretty well enough, and Bull was grateful for the silence. Patches of snow with dirt and grass turned into all snow, light and powdery and up to his calves. Luckily the mass exodus from Haven left a solid trail that Bull followed easily.

"We shouldn't be more than an hour or two behind them," Bull informed the magister. "What's your name?" He didn't want to keep thinking of the guy as 'the magister'. It would likely breed contempt. Not that he wanted to get to know the guy, but no one deserved to die alone in a dark cell. Even assholes.

The magister drew himself up, chest slightly out. "Gereon Alexius." And he eyed Bull warily. "And yours?"

It was a restrained politeness borne from years of proper etiquette training. Bull decided he was okay with this. Fakey pseudo manners were better than outright rudeness. "The Iron Bull."

"Fitting."

Bull scoffed. "Yeah, well."

"I was under the impression that Qunari didn't take names."

"We don't have to have a conversation, you know."

"Very well."

Bull looked back at him, eye narrowed. Just when he thought he had the measure of the man, the game seemed to change. There was a definite quiet sadness about Alexius. Maybe something to do with his son. He'd been there when the boy collapsed, and saw the way Alexius reacted. The kid would be dead in six months tops, Bull gave it. Not that he was a healer or anything, but he'd seen enough illness and death in his day to somewhat accurately guess. He wasn't about to tell Alexius that, though. Still, someone who cared that much about his family? Enough to join a doomsday cult and a crazy as fuck Elder One darkspawn thing to save his son?

Couldn't be all that bad, could he?

-

They walked for hours through the dark, Bull quickly losing the trail. "This isn't going to work. If we keep going, we'll freeze to death." _Or you will._ Bull wasn't particularly bothered by the cold. Or the heat. But Alexius seemed to be flagging a little, and after the third stumble, he decided to stop for the night. "We'll pick it up again in the morning. Let me see your cuffs."

Alexius, who had his hands buried inside his cloak, brought them out. His fingertips were freezing as Bull took them, turning his wrists this way and that.

"Damned enchantments. But the hinges are iron. You got a brooch or a pin or anything fancy?"

Alexius frowned, then reached inside his robes and unhooked a family crest brooch in the shape of a dragon before handing it to him.

"Might break it."

"I've others," Alexius said quietly.

"Course you do." Bull pulled up his sleeve, noting the scars on Alexius's arm. Not an idle, fat magister who let his slaves do all his dirty work, then. Yet, they didn't seem like scars from battle either. What kind of work was he into that would leave marks like that?

He carefully worked the hinge, burning his fingers on the runes when they protested against his strength, and popped the pin out. The iron fell away on one, and Alexius flexed his wrist at once, the joint popping in the otherwise silent night. Bull grunted satisfactorily and worked the other one just as quickly.

"…Thank you."

"Yeah, you can repay me by not stabbing me in the back. Metaphorically _or_ literally."

"Agreed."

"I'll get some wood and you can start a fire."

The branches of the trees were wet, but Bull knew they would burn with magefire. He grew up learning to be wary of magic, but after so many years of meeting all sorts of people, he knew magic wasn't the problem. Just like how swords weren't the problem. The problem came from when people who wielded the magic or the swords thought they were better than the other people who couldn't. There were perfectly decent mages, as there were perfectly decent sellswords. He returned to Alexius, who melted a large circle of snow, leaving bare – albeit wet – ground.

"Here." He dropped the branches into a pile, and watched Alexius light them on fire effortlessly. "Not much in the way of food," Bull said, digging out two ration bars from his pack. He tossed one to Alexius, who caught it against his chest. "You gonna run off in the middle of the night? You'd die."

Alexius knelt down near the fire, and Bull saw through the orangey light that he was shivering. "No."

"We find the others, they're gonna lock you up again. You okay with that?"

"My fate hardly matters now."

"…Y'know, I know magisters are supposed to be all grim and depressing and shit, but you're something else."

Alexius looked at him, and Bull saw a tired man, one who lost his fight. Maybe there was nothing left for him.

"That other guy. Dorian."

Alexius looked away, and unwrapped the ration bar. He settled down further in the damp grass, staring at the fire.

"He was your student or something? He's alive, you know. He made it out."

"I am glad to hear it." But his voice was hollow. 

"So what's your deal with him?"

Alexius cleared his throat. "I believe you stated that we didn't need to have a conversation."

"Well. Sure. Fine. Just trying to be friendly."

"I've never known a Qunari to be 'friendly'."

"Yeah? Met 'em all?"

Alexius stayed silent, slowly consuming the ration bar. Bull sighed, and ate his own, watching the fire pop and crackle. Minutes passed like hours, and Bull felt restless. But it would be stupid to go wandering off in the dark now.

"Should find some shelter. Don't want to freeze to death."

"Death is not the worst thing."

"Your death or your son's?"

"Do not speak to me of my son!"

It was the first time Alexius showed any real sign of life, his voice rising above the crackling of the fire and the whistling of the wind. His expression was livid, glaring at Bull. But behind that, Bull saw the hurt, the pain.

"All right," he relented. But curiosity got the better of him, and after a minute, he asked, "Why did you come with me if you would've rather died in the cell?"

"Felix is not dead yet," Alexius said, tossing the wrapper into the fire. "Not that they would let me write to him."

It seemed a little ridiculous that he wasn't even allowed to write to his son. "I'll talk to Cullen." Letters weren't harmless, but their people would never let anything out of camp that would potentially harm the operation. Bull knew that. And he doubted anything Alexius would have to say would hurt the Inquisition.

"I'd rather not be indebted to a Qunari."

"Suit yourself. I'm still gonna talk to him."

Alexius looked back at him, expression carefully blank. "Suit yourself," he enunciated, mocking him.

"Ah, you know what? I don't even know why I'm trying to be nice to you. You're really not helping the stereotype that all Vints are bastards, though."

"I've nothing to prove to you, Qunari."

"Guess I deserved that one," Bull relented. He settled back close to the fire, using his pack as a pillow. "We should be able to catch up with the rest tomorrow. Best get some sleep now."

Alexius said nothing, but then Bull didn't really expect an answer. Figuring even if Alexius did try to kill him in his sleep, Bull could probably subdue him, he closed his eye and tried to rest.

-

The morning was warmer at least, though when you were this high in the mountains, that was little comfort. There wasn't much energy for talking, their breath coming out in puffs of white as they trekked through the knee-deep snow. He caught Alexius twice from falling, and received a perfunctory, 'Thank you,' both times. Better than nothing, but it was clear he wasn't happy. If it was Bull's call, he might have just let him go. No one knew he'd rescued him, and he did seem fairly harmless. But alone in the mountains? He'd die.

They paused in the afternoon along a frozen stream. Alexius melted a portion of it, and Bull had to admit that magefire was pretty damn useful. He could mix his own chemicals to achieve almost the same effect, but it wasn't as precise or as quick. He filled his water skin, drank, and handed it to Alexius. To his credit, he didn't wipe off the mouth of it before drinking as well. They sat for a few minutes in silence to rehydrate, and Bull filled the skin to the top before leading on again.

"What will your Inquisition decide to do with me?" Alexius asked, finally breaking the hours-long silence.

"Dunno," Bull admitted. "Lock you up again, I guess. Maybe exile you back to Tevinter."

"My son will inherit my rank. I am likely no longer a magister there. And my house will fall to my next of kin once…"

Bull frowned. Qunari didn't worry about things like that. You were born into what you were good at doing. If a business owner died, someone else took over. There was no worry about lineage and houses and all that. He didn't know what to say to comfort Alexius, and the odd thing was, he wasn't sure why he even wanted to. While he deserved whatever punishment was fitting – Bull heard the story of what the Herald went through, though it was a little unnerving to think about it – he didn't deserve to lose his son.

"Even if you go back, they won't let you back into their club, huh?"

"Once the Archon publicly disavows all knowledge of the Venatori, and the Elder One proclaims himself as a rising god, those magisters declaring themselves in his service will be stripped of their titles. Myself included."

"Better than being killed by some crazy guy who wants to be a god."

"Quite."

Bull glanced back at him. He'd been expecting an argument, and the easy agreement didn't make sense. "So… you joined him to take over the world or something?"

"No."

"So…"

Alexius sighed, pulling his cloak tightly around himself. "I was involved in magical research and education. The Magisterium wants to focus on the war between our nations. I disagreed with breeding a country of soldiers."

"Smart. No society works like that. You need people of all kinds."

"And what kind are you?"

Bull scoffed. "I'm not part of the Beresaad if that's what you're asking. But I do like to fight."

"Hence your colorful name. The Iron Bull."

"It makes me sound like a weapon."

"A torture device."

Bull cocked an eyebrow. "Say what?"

"The Iron Bull," Alexius said, squinting in the sunlight reflecting off the snow. "Or the bronze bull. Honestly the name is a misnomer, as it often was made of different material."

"Never heard of it."

"A statue of a giant bull, hollow in the middle, under which sat a large fire. Prisoners were-"

Bull threw a hand up to stop him. "Yeah, yeah I get it, okay. Not exactly what I was going for."

"Obviously."

"You making fun of me?"

"One must find one's amusements somewhere."

Bull wondered if it wasn't just better to have left the damned Vint in his cell.

-

The days wore on, and while Bull was positive they were still on the trail, stumbling over the campsites as they hiked farther up the mountain, he had no idea where they actually were. They would have to come to the end of the mountain chain eventually, right? But he thought maybe traveling down it would be better. The sun set to their left, so he knew Orlais was that direction. Which meant Ferelden was east, and likely a better chance of getting help. Another day of traveling and he would take them east. According to his mental maps, he knew Orzammar was around somewhere. While he couldn't imagine dwarves would be too thrilled to entertain them, they would have something useful for trade.

"Time for a break," Bull ordered.

He wasn't particularly tired, but Alexius was flagging again. While Bull had him pegged properly as a magister who hadn't idled, he was still older. Not as fit as the people Bull was used to ordering around. And he appeared to be getting sick, if the cough was any indication. They built up a small fire, and Bull yanked an old blanket from his pack, tossing it at Alexius.

"Keep warm. I'm going to scout ahead."

Without waiting for an answer, he hiked away from the fire. It wasn't the trail he was looking for, but the familiar plant with the heart-shaped leaves. He spotted a clump near the base of a large rock, and pulled them up, roots and all. He only hoped it was enough to make Alexius well enough to travel without getting sicker. The last thing he wanted to do was to walk up on the Inquisition's camp with a half-dead magister in his arms.

"Here," Bull said, dropping the plants down at Alexius's side.

"Elfroot?"

"For your cough."

Alexius covered his momentary surprise with a smirk. "Keeping me alive so I can survive my execution? How kind of you."

"I don't think they're gonna execute you. Better not," Bull grunted, kneeling by the fire. "Not after all the trouble I went through to keep you alive. All that wasted effort."

"You wouldn't mourn me."

Bull looked at him. "No, but I'd be pretty fucking pissed off if they decided to take your head after I dragged your ass up a mountain."

"Perhaps they'll make you my keeper. How fitting."

"Pass," Bull said, feeling annoyed now. "Look, the Herald isn't a bad person. I'm sure things'll work out."

"Spare me the false platitudes. We're not friends enough for that." Alexius began separating the leaves from the other parts of the plant.

"Fine. Cullen will want justice. But I don't think anyone will call for an execution."

"Even after what I've done?"

"What _did_ you do?" Bull said. "Cause I've heard a lot of crazy ass stories, but nothing really adds up. All the things you were supposed to have done? In some fucked up future that never happened. People died but to punish you for shit you didn't even do? That's harsh. That's not the Inquisition's style."

"If the Herald remembers it. If Dorian-"

Bull watched the lines in Alexius's face deepen as he frowned. "What's the story with you and him anyway?" He remembered the way Alexius clammed up the other day when he brought him up the first time. To Bull, Dorian was just an arrogant little prettyboy Vint with daddy issues. He wondered if Alexius contributed to that.

"He's a student of mine. I failed him."

"You sure it wasn't the other way around?"

Alexius smiled sadly. "When my son fell ill, my research shifted dramatically. Dorian followed me because he wanted to help. I should have concentrated on furthering his education, and spending what time I had left with Felix. Not chasing dreams."

Bull wanted to let the subject drop for now. It was clear it was hurting Alexius to talk about it. And any rate, he wasn't the man's keeper. But his Ben-Hassrath training, the years that shaped him into what he was, knew this was a man who wasn't built to give up. He just seemed lost. Much like they were.

"Do you have a pot for boiling water?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure." Bull pulled a small cooking pot from his things. The rest of the utensils were in Rocky's pack, and he gave a passing thought for his boys now. Krem helped with the evacuation. He trusted his lieutenant to keep the rest of them safe. Likely they were more worried about him right now than he was about them. They were safe, he knew it.

Alexius gathered quite a bit of snow and let it melt over the fire, then began to boil the elfroot leaves. He cleared his throat and started to cough. Bull had to take the pot from him to avoid spilling it into the fire as he devolved into a fit, wheezing heavily at the end. Bull watched him spit in the snow, a trace of red dotting against the white.

"Ah, shit."

"I'll be fine," Alexius said, clearing his throat. "The pot."

Bull handed it over. He watched Alexius cool the water and pluck the leaves from it, placing one delicately on his tongue.

"Does that work?"

Alexius raised an eyebrow in a look that clearly said, "If it didn't, why would I be doing it?"

"Okay, good point," Bull conceded. "Bet it tastes like shit though."

Alexius smirked. Another minute passed and he swallowed. "It does, rather. But it'll be enough to stop the cough until it can be properly attended to. Thank you."

"Er, yeah. You're welcome."

"Not used to manners?"

"Not from your kind. No offense," Bull added.

"I imagine not. The way I see it, however," Alexius said, pulling out another leaf, "is that you and I are stuck with one another for now. And silence isn't always golden." He placed it on his tongue, and closed his lips around his fingers, licking the tips rather obscenely for a man of his status.

"Guess so," Bull agreed. "Once we get wherever we're going, though?"

Alexius made a quiet noise that Bull wasn't sure how to interpret. He waited for him to swallow the next leaf. "You're an intelligent young man for all your claims to be a violent brute."

Bull shrugged, unused to that sort of compliment. He didn't think he was particularly _smart_. At least, not in the way Josephine or Solas or any number of the Inquisition members were smart. He knew what he did because he practiced at it, and he had an innate sense about people. Just because you were empathetic and compassionate didn't mean anything but that. He was trained to know people. And he knew them well. And Alexius… for all his nobility and the stiff upper lip stuff, he was pretty broken. Probably lived his life wanting nothing more than to have a happy family, and now that it was gone?

Sometimes Bull hated being able to psychoanalyze people.

"I guess so, sure. I still like hitting stuff."

"Your blade. May I see it?"

Bull grunted and unsheathed it, handed it over, pommel first. Alexius took it carefully, stronger than he looked as he hefted the large two-handed sword and laid it across his lap. He examined the metal and the hilt, little crackles of electricity sparking from his fingertips, interacting with the sword's latent magic.

"It needs sharpening. But it's good quality." Alexius handed it back.

"Yeah, well. No whetstones out here." Bull took it and slid it back into its sheath. "Thinking of getting an axe, double-headed."

"Do you find it easier to wield?"

"Yeah, I'm more about the swinging than the thrusting."

Alexius smirked.

"Hey! That wasn't dirty!" Bull insisted. He paused, thinking. "It did sound dirty though. I'm about both the swinging and the thrusting if we're talking about _that_. Anyway, you don't strike me as a guy who'd find innuendo funny."

"Don't I? I suppose I give off the stern upper-class noble air instead."

"I'm not saying nobles can't find innuendo funny. Just never met any that actually laughed at it."

"I was a teenager once."

"Doesn't mean you are anymore," Bull said.

"No. In my experience, we all must grow up at some point. However, that doesn't mean losing one's sense of humor. And everyone enjoys a good phallus joke now and again."

Bull laughed, surprised at the unexpected topic of conversation, and more so at Alexius's easy humor. "You know, you're all right. How'd you get mixed up with an asshole like that Elder One guy?"

The smile slid from Alexius's face and he fished out another leaf from the pot, contemplating it a moment. "He promised me a way to save my son if I could perform a task for him. Removing a person from history. Make it so that the Herald wasn't at the Temple of Sacred Ashes to begin with. I thought, 'What's one life in exchange for my son's health?'"

"Ehn. You start putting price tags on people's heads like that, you start going down a path you can't turn from."

"Says the mercenary?"

"Hey, I'm _not_ Tal-Vashoth. I'm nothing like those…" Bull broke off with a grunt. "Never mind."

"My apologies. I meant no offense."

Bull looked sidelong at him. "You are one strange Vint."

"I've been called worse."

"Yeah," Bull said, as he watched Alexius place another leaf on his tongue. "Says the merc. I'm not Tal-Vashoth, but my mission involves a lot of merc shit. Swords for hire. Gather intel." He shrugged. "It's not like the Inquisition doesn't know why I'm here. But yeah. You start saying one life is worth more than another and all that…" He broke off again. "You own slaves."

"Ah." The word was rounded and slightly lisp-like around the leaf.

"Yeah. So. I guess it's easy for you."

Alexius swallowed, then licked his lips delicately. "As much as I'd love to engage in a debate on slavery, I believe this is neither the time nor the place for such a discussion."

"It's wrong. There's nothing to discuss."

"Tevinter has a very long history of slavery, and I acknowledge its faults-"

"Like, everything?" Bull said, prodding the fire. They really should have started walking a while ago. They should pack up _now_ and get moving before night fell.

Alexius took a steadying breath, pulling the blanket that Bull gave him around himself. He sat up straight, as if steeling himself for an argument that Bull just didn't want to hear. "While there are things inherently wrong with slavery, the majority of landowners who also own slaves-"

"Spare me the nugshit," Bull cut him off. "It's wrong. You know it's wrong. And you do it."

"I'm not interested in trying to change your views. Any more than you seem to be interested in converting me to the Qun."

"Oh you are not comparing the Qun to slavery." He'd heard enough of that from Solas.

"No system is perfect, The Iron Bull."

The use of his full name, article and all, gave Bull pause. No one ever did that. Not that he minded, but it was weird to receive this type of respect, especially from a Tevinter magister. Alexius kept him on his toes, that was for sure.

"Doesn't mean it's right."

"I never said it was." Alexius drained the water, rolling up the remaining leaves, and tucked them inside a pocket.

"But you do it anyway."

"You kill people for money."

"Some people need killing."

"And some men can't find jobs so they sell themselves to feed their families."

"Oh and that's what you do? Take in the less fortunate ones?" Bull grabbed up the pot and shoved it his bag, waving off the blanket that Alexius tried to hand to him. "Keep it."

"And those orphaned."

"You don't bleed 'em." Bull watched Alexius douse the fire with a spell, and they started off together, the unconscious decision to continue made.

"No. I don't practice any form of blood magic."

Bull frowned. He was really good at telling when someone was lying to him. Nobles were easier because while they thought they were being sneaky with their words or relaxed body language, there were always certain tells. Alexius hadn't lied to him yet, and he wasn't now. And really what did he have to gain by lying anyway? It wasn't as if Bull had a say in what happened to him once they caught up with the Inquisition.

"I find the practice rather abhorrent," Alexius stated. "It's an anathema to quite a lot of magic, and a quick fix or simple answer. Like bandaging a gaping wound with one layer of linen when it needs stitching."

"That's a pretty gruesome analogy."

"But apt."

Bull huffed.

"Have I offended?" Alexius asked, sounding slightly amused.

"No. Just…"

"You're not like most Qunari I've met. I'm not like most mages from Tevinter you'll meet."

"People are people," Bull muttered. One of Sera's favorite phrases, and it was appropriate here.

"Indeed."

"Maybe under a different set of circumstances, I'd buy you a beer and we could discuss philosophy and crap."

Alexius laughed, and thankfully did not devolve into a cough. It seemed his remedy worked. "And perhaps under a different set of circumstances, I would accept."

Stranger things, Bull decided, had happened.


	2. Chapter 2

Skyhold was an impressive piece of shit. It was the nicest compliment Bull could give it. Better, he supposed, than Haven. But it needed a lot of work. He missed the finer points of the Herald's appointment to Inquisitor, his trek through the Frostbacks setting them back five days in all. Living off mountain water, ration bars, and whatever he could catch running around the hills made him rather cranky. Not to mention the havoc it wreaked on his bowels. At least Skyhold had decent indoor plumbing once the mages got the magical runes working again. And, after checking in with Krem and the others – they were fine, as he suspected – he sat down to his first real meal in a week. There was just one problem though. He found himself missing Alexius's company.

Sure the guy was kind of different, but you don't spend a week with someone in close, intimate quarters like that without feeling a sort of a connection with them. So he asked Cabot for a tray and a pitcher of beer and made his way down to the dungeons. Which were, he noticed, even worse than the ones at Haven. At least Haven's were dry, if a little cramped. Wind blew in from cracks and the whole thing smelled of damp and mildew. Perfect for a man recovering from coughing up blood.

"I'm on guard duty now," he told Cullen's soldier.

"For how long?" the boy asked, torn between the intimidating look of Bull and not wanting to shirk his duty.

"Just tell Cullen that I took over. He'll be fine with it. It's not like the prisoner's going to run away."

The boy – and really he barely looked out of his teens – ran off quickly to report to Cullen. Bull stepped into the prison proper and saw Alexius sitting in one of the cells. He wore the same clothes they brought him in with, but at least he was allowed to keep the blanket. He looked paler. Weaker. Which was crazy because it had only been a day or two since he'd seen him last.

"Hey." Bull wasn't sure what to call him. 'Alexius' seemed almost impersonal, but 'Gereon' too familiar. Sticking to a generic greeting was best. "You thirsty?"

Alexius looked up, and smiled when saw Bull. "A beer?"

"It's not anything special but it's better than most. Here."

It took some doing but they managed to get the cup and the tray through the meal slot, and Bull carefully poured the amber liquid to the top, a layer of foam nearly spilling over. Alexius sipped quickly, and made a quiet noise of satisfaction. Bull pulled over the guard's stool and table and sat down, while Alexius resumed his seat on the sad looking fold-up bed.

"So prison."

"Yes, my glorious new estate. I'm sure my son would be proud to see me now."

Bull scoffed. "He loves you. He wouldn't have been worried about you if he didn't."

"He did say goodbye," Alexius noted, and started to eat the thick stew and bread.

Bull wondered what that was like. A goodbye where you knew it was going to be the last time you saw the other person alive. He needed to talk to the Inquisitor. Maybe push the vote for Alexius to live. But was it the kindest thing to do, when Alexius clearly had no more reason for living?

"Did, uh. Did Dorian come see you?"

Alexius frowned. "No. I expect he's busy."

"That's the first time you lied to me since I met you."

A resigned sigh. "He's angry with me. I disappointed him in the worst way. It's understandable that he wouldn't come."

"All Vints martyrs like you? Or is this just your particular brand of self-flagellation?"

Alexius looked at him, slightly surprised. Then he laughed. "I am being rather maudlin. I apologize."

"Nah. Being locked up does that, I guess." Bull started in on his own stew, and sipped the thick beer, licking the foam from his lip. "No one else came to see you, huh?"

"The Commander, to make sure the accommodations were humane."

"Yeah. Humane. That's one word," Bull said, glancing around. "But hey, I don't see any rats."

"A definite testament to the splendor of the Inquisition's dungeons. I shall have to write a proper review. Provided I still have my head."

It was supposed to be a light-hearted joke. But Bull found it difficult to chuckle along with Alexius. Why though, he couldn't actually say. Yeah, he liked Alexius, but it wasn't as if they were friends or anything. Because friends didn't bring each other food and beer and keep one another company.

"Damn it," he muttered into his cup.

"Something the matter?"

"Nah, just…" He shrugged.

"Clearly."

"Don't start being an asshole now," Bull warned, but had to smile a little when Alexius laughed. "Okay, fine. I'd miss you if you died. Now, you gonna make fun of me or what?"

"Not for that. But you do have a bit of beer foam on your lip that I might have to tease you about."

Bull wiped at his lip to find it dry. "Oh you _asshole_."

Alexius laughed. "I'm a prisoner. I don't have many opportunities for entertainment, and my days grow shorter. Surely you'll forgive an aging captive."

"The old ones are wily as shit," Bull noted. "They're the ones you don't expect pulling stunts like that and before you know it, you're climbing down a water spout naked after they locked you out of your room."

"Personal experience?"

"Damned bastard took my lucky dagger, too."

"A former lover of yours?" Alexius asked curiously.

"You could say that. One night thing. Worth it."

"Until the 'damned bastard' took your dagger and clothing?"

"Nah, the clothes were in the room. I just couldn't get to 'em from the balcony."

"But it was all worth it," Alexius said, mopping up the last of the stew with his bread.

"Well yeah. You ever see a naked Qunari walk into an inn and ask for a room key?"

"No, I cannot rightly say that I have seen that." He chuckled, then broke off, coughing.

"Ah, shit," Bull said, putting his cup aside. "You still sick? They didn't have a healer look at you or anything?"

Alexius shook his head. "No. I didn't think to mention it. And I wasn't coughing when they put me in here."

Bull scowled. "I'll talk to Cullen. No," he said, when Alexius opened his mouth, probably to protest. "Finish your beer."

"Yes, mother," Alexius said lightly.

"…Sorry." Bull hadn't meant to sound overbearing. He was too used taking care of other people that he forgot sometimes that not everyone actually enjoyed it.

"No need. I find it amusing."

"Shut up."

Alexius tsked. "Is that any way to speak to your elders?"

"You know, respect is earned, old man. Not given freely."

"Old man," Alexius repeated. "I think I liked it better when you were pretending to be a mother hen."

"It ain't pretending if you're really worried."

Bull expected Alexius to come back with another quip, another insult or a jape. Instead, he saw his expression soften, and he smiled. Bull swallowed, trying to keep his own face blank.

"Thank you, my friend."

"Er, for what?" Bull asked, feeling a little uncomfortable. He looked down and concentrated on finishing what was in his bowl.

"Common courtesy. I'd been so long out of Tevinter and away from my usual circle of acquaintances that I simply forgot how it works."

"How what works?"

"Caring about someone you'd consider a friend."

Bull watched the weathered, scarred hand reach through the bars and touch his own. His wrists, Bull noticed, were once again encased in those stupid magic dampening cuffs. Bull flexed his fingers, then relaxed, turning his hand palm up, and Alexius squeezed gently. The gesture was foreign to him. Holding hands wasn't something you did with anyone. Public displays of affection didn't happen where he came from, and sex wasn't anything personal. Here, he knew, it was different. He had his friends – like Krem – people he could count on. But he never thought about fucking them. The Chantry sisters in Haven were different. They wanted to ride the Bull and he was happy for the distraction. Always willing to help out. Paying a whore was similar to going to see a Tamassran, only you ended up with less coin in your pocket and possibly an itchy crotch after.

He tilted his head unconsciously. Being unnerved by such a simple thing was… well, it was fucked up. Alexius was searching for comfort. Bull was in the position to give it. He gave it. Any decent person would, right? But damn it, it should be Dorian here, not him, shouldn't it? His own fingers curled around Alexius's and he returned the gentle squeeze. A man who was probably spending his last days in a cell, whose son was alive but only for now, and a guy who claimed to respect him currently ignoring his existence. All the while being denied some basic healthcare. He squeezed Alexius's hand again.

"I'm gonna go talk to Cullen. Promise you won't try to escape or anything while I'm gone."

"My dear Iron Bull," Alexius said, pulling his hand away as Bull stood. "Even if I could escape, where would I run?"

Bull shrugged. "You got a point. Still. Don't make me chase your ass across the mountains. I kinda want to relax for a while."

"You have my word," Alexius promised.

Bull poured the remainder of his beer in Alexius's mug, took the empty dishes, and headed off to find Cullen.

-

"You want me to send a healer to the magister?"

"He's sick."

Bull couldn't believe he had to explain this. Or justify himself. Cullen looked at him from across the handsome desk which was already piled high with papers. And the man sitting behind it? Looked haggard as anything. Bull supposed that made sense though. Getting a few hundred people, soldiers, and pack animals from Haven to here, and having to deal with the appointment of the Inquisitor, and all the rest of the bullshit that came with it? It wasn't something he'd want to do. He was lucky Krem took care of things while he was gone. Of course he had to put up with their teasing and all once he got back. Nerves, he supposed. It was fine. Let the boys take the piss out of him if it made them feel better.

"The Inquisitor will judge him and once it's been decided what to do with him-"

"And if it takes the Inquisitor weeks to judge him? Say we get pulled on an assignment. Or he gets forgotten about."

Cullen stood up, and while he was still head and shoulders shorter than Bull, he was tall for a human and quite impressive wearing his armor and cloak. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were becoming overly familiar with this magister."

Bull glowered. "And that would only be an issue if I was in charge of him."

"But you're not."

"But I'm not," Bull agreed. "Still. You gonna let a prisoner suffer?"

"I will see what I can do, but we're already taxed as it is tending to our _own_ wounded."

Lip service. Bull knew it when he heard it. Cullen wanted him to leave, and he didn't want to hear any more about 'the magister'. "Yeah. Fine. Thanks, _Commander_."

He slammed the door on his way out.

-

"I am surprised you've come to me."

Of course his next stop was Solas. The only other person he knew who knew anything about healing. He supposed he could've asked that Fiona lady, but he doubted her charitable nature toward Alexius. More likely she'd say it was a remedy and it would be poison and then the Inquisitor wouldn't even need to take the time to judge him. So Bull swallowed his pride and asked Solas instead.

"Yeah. Well."

"I was not your first option."

"No."

"Now _that_ doesn't surprise me," Solas said with a faint smile. He added a few drops of some potion into the mixture, and it turned faintly blue. "What kind of a cough was it?"

"Really wheezy. Raspy. And he hacked up some blood, too."

"And you said boiled elfroot leaves on the tongue remedied it for a short time."

"He took three of them and was okay for a couple of days. I thought that would do it."

Solas smiled again, the same sort of almost smirk that Bull took to mean he knew something no one else did. "Elfroot is a great tool. It's the base of many potions, including and especially ones for healing, but it is not a miracle plant, unfortunately."

"Is that tree bark?"

"After a sort, yes," Solas said, grating the bark into the mixture.

"He has to drink that shit?"

"No. It will thicken into a paste when cool, and needs to be applied to the back and chest twice a day. I'll make enough for a week. It needs to be applied in a thin coat. Too much and it won't work properly. I'll show you."

Bull watched Solas take a bit of the mixture and spread it over his desk. Thin enough to see the wood, but still covering it. "Right. Where again?"

"The chest," Solas said, putting his hand to his own to indicate the approximate area. "And mirror the same on his back."

"Er, right." Bull wondered how Alexius was going to reach his back. And of course, he already knew the answer to that.

"That's all there is to it." Solas put the lid on the pot and took it off the little fire he conjured. A wave of his hand and it disappeared. "Should the cough return, you can come back for more, but I believe this is the cure you're looking for. I will need extra ingredients if you require more, however. I only had a limited stock with which to create this one."

"Just gimme a list. I'll have my boys get it."

"Only if you need more," Solas assured him.

"What do I owe you for this?" In Bull's experience, nothing in life was free, after all.

"Consider it a gesture of good faith. You don't wish to see someone suffer, even a man who most would agree deserves it. I find it reassuring that even in this age, there are people who do good for goodness' sake."

"...Thanks, Solas." _Freaking weirdo._ But Bull was grateful. He took the pot, and was about to head off to the dungeon when footsteps on the stairs made him stop.

"Dorian," Solas greeted, inclining his head a little.

"Solas, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind translating a bit. I found some elven in this book." He looked up from the book in his hands, saw Bull, and frowned. "Ah. Didn't mean to interrupt."

"Bull was seeking my wisdom as well," Solas said with a smug sort of grin. "But I believe we were finished?" He looked at Bull.

"Yeah, we were. Why haven't you gone to see Alexius yet?" Bull demanded of Dorian, who looked immediately taken aback.

"I don't believe that's any of your business whatsoever," Dorian said, affronted.

"You know he's sick."

"And how would you - Ah. Because you brought him from Haven."

"I saved his damned life," Bull growled. "Man lost everything he ever loved and you can't even grant him the common decency of a five minute conversation."

Dorian clenched his jaw and shut the book with a quick snap. When he spoke, it was directly to Solas, looking pointedly away from Bull. "I'll come back when you no longer have company."

"Don't bother. I was leaving. Ungrateful asshole," Bull muttered, and left the room.

Alexius might not have made a big deal of Dorian not going to see him, but it clearly upset him. Just five minutes to see how he was doing. Yeah, it was difficult. But didn't Alexius deserve that? Bull made a quick stop in his own room for a quill pen, ink, paper, and a blanket before heading down to the dungeon again. The guard was back, and stood when Bull entered.

"I've been ordered by Commander Cullen not to leave my post."

"So don't leave it. But get out of my way."

The boy stepped aside and Bull pushed on the slightly broken door into the cell block. Alexius looked up when he entered, and stood, covering a cough, as he looked at the things in his hands.

"What's all this?"

"No healer. Commander says he'll 'try' but I don't believe it for a second. Here." He passed the blanket through the bars first.

"Another?"

"Should get you a change of clothes. You stink."

"You might want to rethink your compliments," Alexius said, folding the blanket and placing it on the bed.

"And you should just accept gifts when people give 'em to you."

"Fair enough," Alexius agreed. He looked eagerly at the paper and quill, and took them somewhat excitedly when Bull passed them through.

"I'll make sure your son gets your letter. I doubt anyone told him you were alive. I figure he's got a right to know. All letters I send out are looked over by Red's people though. So no treasure maps to family fortunes."

"Won't be a problem," Alexius said. "I'm very old fashioned. We keep our money in our mattresses."

"You know, I know that's a joke, but somehow I can see you doing that."

Alexius smiled and nodded at the pot. "And that?"

"Mixture that Solas made. I watched him do it and I'm like, ninety-nine percent sure it's not lethal." He took the lid off.

Alexius peered in. "Seems familiar. The scent. Something I can't quite place. I do hope it's not intended for consumption."

"Nah," Bull said, setting it down on a table. "You gotta put it on your chest and back."

Alexius raised an eyebrow. "I see."

Bull rolled his eye and sighed. "Take your fancy cloak and shirt off. Nothing I haven't seen, after all."

"You're too kind," Alexius said with an edge of sarcasm. But he removed his cloak, folded it, and placed it on the bed. Then he did the same with his shirt.

Bull took note of several scars. "Where'd you get those, anyway?"

Alexius gestured to the pot, and Bull held it out to him. "One or two were from dueling in my youth. Stupid thing, really. Most were experiments gone bad. Flasks exploding at the wrong time. I was rather reckless." He smiled. "Livia often berated me for my foolishness, but she would always patch me up after."

"Livia? Your woman?"

Alexius took a bit of the mixture, made a face at the smell, and lathered a bit on his chest. "My wife. Well, my research partner who became my wife."

"You're putting it on too thick."

"Pardon?"

"Ugh, just come here." Bull stepped forward and reached through the bars. He palmed Alexius's chest and smoothed out the mixture in the same way Solas had shown him. "So you married her."

"Yes. She… died. In the attack that left Felix sick. Darkspawn," he finished quietly, and closed his eyes.

"...Sorry."

"Thank you," Alexius whispered.

"This, uh. This side's done. Go ahead and turn around."

Alexius did, and Bull was surprised to see a tattoo of a black dragon on his shoulder blade. "Nice ink."

"Another thing I did in my reckless youth," Alexius admitted. "Sometimes I forget it's there."

"Looks good. Little faded." Bull took a bit more of the mixture and spread it over Alexius's back with both hands. He let his thumbs move over the skin, feeling the taut muscles underneath. "You're so tense."

"I am locked in a dungeon cell, awaiting my fate."

"Fair enough."

They fell silent, and while it only took a few seconds to apply the bluish, somewhat sweet-smelling cream to Alexius's back, Bull didn't stop right away. He _was_ tense, and it wasn't all from anxiety. The muscles were knotted, and he worked the kinks through easily, his large hands engulfing Alexius's shoulders. Alexius's head lolled forward as Bull moved his thumbs up his neck, working the base where his spine met his skull. He could easily snap his neck in one quick motion. Alexius trusted him not to. Having that power over someone though, that was something Bull enjoyed. Though he would never take advantage of a situation, not without clear watchwords and full consent from both parties, the thought of bringing Alexius to an apex of pleasure, perhaps with a little breathplay, crossed his mind quickly.

_Holy shit._

Bull pulled back slowly, not wanting Alexius to think anything was amiss. Not that the man could read his mind. Could magic do that? Bull was fairly sure it couldn't, but he didn't want to take any chances, and immediately thought of unsexy thoughts. The potion smell on his hands was a good start, and the elf who created it. Solas. Arrogant. Kind of an asshole. Hates the Qun. Yeah, that worked. Now he was just irritated. He capped the pot and wiped his hands on his pants while Alexius pulled his shirt and cloak on.

"You want me to come back later for the letter?" Bull asked. "I could bring a deck of cards or something."

"Surely you have other things to do than to entertain an old jailbird."

Bull snorted. "Unless the Inquisitor needs me, it's just clearing out old junk from this place. I'll do some heavy lifting but mostly I'd probably just sit around the tavern and watch the serving girls bend over."

"And that's not more appealing?"

"I get my kicks when I need to." That was the wrong thing to say, as the image of Alexius underneath him came flooding back. Bull would straddle him, one hand on his throat, just squeezing hard enough, the other stroking him off. The orgasm would be so intense, he bet he could get Alexius to come more than once.

"If it's your pleasure."

Oh that wasn't fair. Bull shook his head, then shrugged. "Sure. Whatever. Hey," he said. "I saw Dorian."

"Leave the boy be."

"But-"

Alexius frowned. "Bull. Leave it."

Bull's shoulders slumped a little. "I'm just saying. He should come see you."

"He will."

"How do you know?"

"Because," Alexius said, picking up the blank papers Bull left him, "I know Dorian. Better than he knows himself."

"If you say so. Two hours?"

"That should be sufficient time. And Bull?"

"Yeah, don't thank me. You're still stuck in that cage."

Alexius smiled. "You make it bearable."

Bull shrugged and left, glad of his training that let him hide what he was thinking.

-

"You all right, Chief?"

Four more days passed and still no judgment. Bull was starting to get irritated. The Inquisitor left on some trip to Crestwood. Which likely meant Alexius would be stuck in the cells for another week. He got his letter set out at least, and Bull hoped it reached Tevinter in time. He didn't read it, but Alexius told him it was a reassurance and a farewell. Red's people cleared it and it went out the same night he wrote it. Bull made sure of that. He also visited Alexius twice a day to help him apply the mixture to his chest and back and to make small talk and joke around and play a couple hands of cards. Alexius told him stories about his research and his awkward courting of his wife, and Bull returned the favor by telling Alexius stories of the Chargers. He went down just an hour before to find Alexius tired and in need of sleep, and didn't want to bother him. And it worried him that Alexius was looking so frail. So when he worried, he did the only thing he could.

"Er, Chief? I think the dummy's dead. Stuffing's all gone."

"Stop pointing out the obvious then and get me another one." He liked Krem. He liked him a lot. They were good friends, good drinking buddies. The Chargers trusted them both with their lives. But some days he thought Krem knew him a little too well.

Krem grabbed another dummy from the pile and yanked it onto the pole. Then he leapt out of the way as Bull swung at it with a training sword. "You gonna just hit stuff all day then?"

"Don't you have something else to do?" Bull asked. "Like not bother me?"

"Well sure," Krem said, leaning against another pole. "But bothering you's way more fun. Besides, I bet I'm bothering you less than whatever's really bothering you. Otherwise you wouldn't need me out here to distract you from what's bothering you by bothering you."

Bull turned to him, letting his sword arm drop. "What the hell did you just say?"

Krem laughed. "Oh come on, Chief. Let's grab a drink and talk."

"No."

"Then let's just get drunk."

Bull, sweating from the exertion, hands feeling raw from the badly wrapped grip of the sword, looked from the training dummy to Krem, and nodded. "Yeah. Drunk sounds good."

-

Drunk, it turned out, was a bad idea. Well, not the getting there part. That was always fun. It was what happened after that he was starting to think might have been bad. One of the serving girls, a redhead from Haven he bedded before, followed him out of the tavern. He knew it was going to happen when she approached him, and he was fine with it. They shared a few kisses on their way up to his room, and fell inside together. He pressed her against the door, leaning down to kiss her again, and she reached up, grabbing his horns.

"Ooh," she giggled. He normally loved it when they giggled. "I missed this. We should make it a regular thing."

"Then all my other girlfriends would get jealous," Bull said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You ready for tonight?"

"I've been ready since you fucked me behind the chantry at Haven. I've dreamed about this every night."

Bull doubted that, but it was nice to hear. He smacked her lightly on the ass. "Get naked and get on the bed."

He kicked off his boots and undid his belt, head swimming a bit. The cracked mirror on the wall reflected his expression, and he knew he looked like shit. Eye a little red and watery, jaw in serious need of a shave. Not to mention a good night's sleep. But instead he was going to let her bounce for a bit and because he _wasn't_ an asshole, he was going to let her stay. 

How he made it to the bed, he couldn't say. The night was a bit of a blur, though he was pretty sure they both had fun, and she was curled against his side in the morning. The usual soreness that came with sex accompanied him when he woke, along with a grogginess he'd not been expecting. Carefully he extracted himself from her hold and dressed.

"Shit," he whispered, realizing how late it was once he saw the sun heavy in the sky. He was supposed to have gone back to check on Alexius the previous night, and take care of his illness regimen this morning. Hoping Alexius wouldn't be put out - and Bull knew he would accept the apology graciously - he hurried down to the dungeon.

Only to find it empty.

"Where is he?" Bull asked the guard. The same kid, of course it was. Guarding an empty cell block. Cullen sure was training a genius there.

"Sentenced this morning, sir."

"Sentenced?" Bull felt his blood run cold.

"The Inquisitor returned early this morning and passed judgment."

"And?" Bull ground out.

"I… I don't know. I wasn't there."

"No, you were guarding an empty fucking cell like an idiot." It wasn't fair of him, Bull knew, but he couldn't help the trepidation as he climbed out of the dungeon and toward the Inquisitor's quarters, hoping to get some answers.


	3. Chapter 3

The Inquisitor, thankfully, had not executed Alexius. Not that Bull thought that was going to happen. Still it was nice to know that his friend hadn't been tried and killed while he was sleeping off sex and a hangover. Magical research for the Inquisition was a good choice for him, Bull thought. From what he gleaned from Alexius's stories, this was not only the thing that would likely make him the happiest, it was also the best use of him. Still, the relief that came with the knowledge that Alexius wasn't dead, that Bull could still go and talk to him, was almost overwhelming.

"Shit," he muttered to himself as he returned to his room to gather the medicine. The serving girl was gone, and in her place, a handkerchief doused in perfume. He contemplated it a moment, then tossed in the laundry. It would get back to her eventually, or end up in someone else's pocket. And if she asked for another round, he would find a way to let her down gently and maybe spin her off to one of his boys.

_At least he's out of that dungeon._

As his thoughts turned abruptly to Alexius, he mentally berated himself. It was never good to start analyzing his feelings when they started straying toward one particular person. He was definitely more the type of person to have his fun, maybe help someone out, then move on. Feelings beyond that made things complicated. And Alexius probably wasn't even into guys, considering the fact that he had a wife. Then again, Bull had fooled around with married couples before, so he knew that having a wife didn't necessarily preclude that idea.

Two Inquisition soldiers - templars, Bull noted - flanked the door. They looked at him as he approached, and he saw recognition in their expressions. Then again, how many Qunari mercenaries did the Inquisition have? He nodded questioningly at the door.

"The magister already has a visitor. Commander's orders say one at a time."

He wondered if Cullen would ever stop being a source of irritation for him. He respected the man, the way he commanded his troops, the things he was doing for the Inquisition. But when it came to Alexius, it was just one irksome thing after another.

"He needs his medicine."

One of the soldiers raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the other. "Well?"

"I don't get paid enough for this. Just don't tell the Commander, yeah?" he said, and opened the door.

Bull made a mental note to have Cabot put both men on his tab for a week, and stepped inside. The door shut behind him, and he had a moment to take in the accommodations. A decent sized room with a proper fireplace, sizeable bed, desk, and a partition which he assumed hid the bathing area. Alexius was sitting at the desk, a half-finished plate of food next to him, and he was turned away from the door, talking to Dorian who sat on the bed, legs crossed, leaning back. The smile fell from Dorian's face when he saw Bull.

Alexius turned, and in contrast, his smile broadened. "My friend! Do come in."

Bull stepped further in the room, handing the pot of medicine to Alexius. He was pleased to see both blankets he'd given Alexius washed and folded at the foot of the bed. "Sorry about last night."

"Not at all. I needed my rest, and I expect you did as well." Alexius set the pot on the desk and reached out to squeeze his hand. "Dorian and I were just catching up."

"Nice to see you finally came by," Bull said, not bothering to hide what he thought.

Dorian scoffed. "Alexius _is_ a dear friend of mine."

"So dear you didn't even bother going to see him when he was locked up in Haven?"

Alexius stood a second after Dorian, the latter about to say something when Alexius placed a hand on his shoulder. "We're having a nice morning."

"Yes it's a shame it's ruined now," Dorian said sharply.

"Dorian."

"Pardon me," Dorian said, taking up his cloak from the hook on the wall. "Alexius, we'll continue this later."

Bull bit his tongue hard. Normally he wouldn't care about throwing a casual insult, but he had no desire to cause Alexius any more grief today. And anything he had to say to Dorian definitely would spark an argument that he wouldn't be able to walk away from. Alexius looked resigned as Bull watched them say their goodbyes, a careful hug and Dorian kissed his cheek. The door shut, and the silence that hung between them was somewhat awkward.

"Glad I didn't bet."

"Bet?" Alexius asked, confused.

"On whether or not he'd come to see you."

Alexius sighed. "I did say… Never mind. Is this going to be a point of contention between you boys?"

Bull scoffed. "Now who's being the mother hen?"

"I feel like I've been raising children all my life," Alexius said, somewhat apologetically. "Comes with being a tutor."

"Time to let someone else take care of you for a change."

It was an innocent statement with heavy undertones that Bull hadn't meant to imply. Alexius scrutinized him for a moment before smiling, and handed him the pot of medicine on the desk.

"Good place to start," Bull agreed. He watched Alexius lock the door. "They let you do that?"

"There's nothing in here with which to escape. I was given a room without a window. While the thought of death has crossed my mind more often than I care to admit, the Inquisitor has seen fit to provide me a new purpose. And I received a letter from Felix."

Bull thought the last more than anything accounted for the proverbial spring in Alexius's step. "Yeah?"

Alexius nodded. He sat on the bed and started to untie his tunic. "He was well enough to address the Magisterium in my place and speak of the Inquisition. Ensconced safely in Minrathous, the Elder One won't be able to reach him there."

This was rather optimistic of Alexius, but Bull wasn't going to point out that assassins could get in literally anywhere. His son only had a few months to live, possibly less, and he wasn't going to rip away what little happiness Alexius could take from the idea that his son was happy and safe.

"As for myself-" Alexius gripped the tunic by the back of the neck and pulled it over his head. "I think a lot of those surrounding the Inquisitor believe I was let off rather easy."

"You _are_ an asset." Bull thought along the lines of the Qun in that respect. People shouldn't just be thrown away like they were garbage. The Chargers were the most ragtag group he'd ever come across - except maybe the Inquisition itself - and they did just fine. No one else would take in the people he did, and Bull knew they were grateful to him for it. It wasn't as if he went looking for those types to join him. It was just something that sort of happened. If you pulled your own weight, you were fine in Bull's book. And Alexius's mind would've been a horrible thing to just toss out.

"I appreciate that. Your Inquisitor thought so." Alexius nodded at the pot in Bull's hand.

Bull crossed to the bed, knelt on the floor between Alexius's knees, and set the pot on the ground. "Anyone say anything to you?" He took a bit of the mixture onto his fingertips, noting that there wasn't much left. Not that he thought they would need any more once this was out, but he would miss the ritual of it.

"I assume you mean derogatory words in my direction."

"Yeah." Bull spread the potion onto Alexius's skin, resting his free hand on his knee.

Alexius smirked. "Are you going to defend my honor if I said yes?"

Bull laughed. "No. People talk shit all the time."

"And do they about you?"

"What?" He looked at Alexius. "Not to my face. They know better. Or they're just scared. I take crap from my guys all the time though."

"I am of Tevinter. I am a prisoner. It is to be expected. Dorian receives much the same. If I'm to understand it correctly, there is a Chantry mother spreading rumors about him."

Bull huffed. Dorian was the last person he wanted to talk about. "Yeah?" But he would indulge Alexius.

"He's not a bad person."

"You keep defending him, it's almost like you're protesting too much. This side's done."

Alexius laid his hand over Bull's, and Bull noticed the cuffs were gone. "I am neither young nor foolish."

Bull raised an eyebrow. "Yeah." It was an abrupt change in the conversation, and he wasn't sure where Alexius was going with the declaration.

Warm fingertips slid up to his bicep and squeezed. "What interests you in an old "Vint" like me that you continue to return day after day?"

"I dunno. You're a good guy. You got good stories." Bull watched Alexius lean forward, and it clicked. "Oh. Well. Yeah. There's that too."

"That."

"Well now you're just making it awkward by talking about it."

"Then stop talking."

It was a little surreal to Bull when their lips met. Alexius played his cards much closer to his chest then he gave the guy credit for. Then again, he was a Tevinter magister and those types tended to play for much higher stakes. Damned nobility. He pressed forward, and grunted with satisfaction when Alexius went, breaking the kiss to lie on the bed properly. Warm, soft hands cupped his cheeks, then slid back behind his neck and he allowed himself to be pulled down for another kiss. Careful not to put all his weight on Alexius and accidentally crush him, Bull knelt, straddling one of Alexius's thighs.

"Ever been with a guy?" Bull asked, once the kiss broke again.

"In my youth," Alexius said, hands sliding down to Bull's chest. With fingers more dexterous than Bull would've given him credit for, he deftly undid the buckles to his harness, and the leather fell away. "Not a Qunari."

Bull smirked. "I'm different from other Qunari anyway."

"I'd imagine so."

"There's just one catch. A word. We do anything you don't like, you say-"

"The Elder One."

Bull laughed. "Yeah, that would ruin the mood pretty fast."

"I'm aware how these things work. But not what you have in mind." Alexius's hands continued to wander, and Bull was sure he was using magic to make his fingers so warm.

"I had a thought or two."

"Care to share with the class?" Alexius reached up, but hesitated.

"Go ahead." His lovers were always interested in the horns, and it seemed that Alexius was no exception.

Alexius touched them at the base, running his thumb from flesh to bone and back, sliding his hand as far as his arm could reach. He did the same with the other, and Bull had to smirk again. The curiosity never bothered him. Alexius was simply more courteous than most.

"I want to get you off while restricting your airflow. Makes the orgasm more intense. Might not be a good idea with your cough, though." Bull bypassed Alexius's chest, which shimmered faintly with the potion, and lowered his head to kiss the slightly soft middle. A line of silver hair led from his navel below the waistband of the flimsy linen pants he wore, which barely hid the half-hard cock which was Bull's ultimate destination.

"I think it would be fine," Alexius said. "I doubt I'd be able to speak, however."

Bull nuzzled the slight bulge, enjoying Alexius's quiet moan. "You're a mage, so we'll make it easy. You want it to stop, you send sparks up."

"I can manage that."

Bull curled his fingers into the waistband of Alexius's pants, undid the loose knot with his teeth, and pulled the fabric down as Alexius lifted his hips. He was naked underneath. Either he had no smallclothes to begin with, or the Inquisition didn't provide any. Either way, Bull was pleased with the end result. Alexius lying naked before him, skin slightly flushed, cock waiting to be touched. He looked him over from head to toe; the human body always a marvel to him. Not that Qunari or any other race was so fundamentally different. In his experience they all fit together the same way. But humans were almost frail. Alexius made a quiet noise, and Bull looked up.

"You all right?"

"Hm. I've not had anyone look at me in such a way…"

"Yeah?" Bull stroked up the inside of his thigh, spreading his legs. He drew his fingers up Alexius's cock. "Works though. Sexy."

"Now you're simply flattering me."

"You're in better shape than most magisters who sit around and get fat. You're still using your brain, even if you're a little soft in the middle." He gave Alexius's stomach a slight pinch.

"High praise," Alexius said sarcastically. His eyelids fluttered as Bull started to stroke him.

"Bet you were a meticulous thing when you were younger. Vain. Always working on your tan." Bull was teasing, however. He doubted Alexius was anything like that. He carefully put his other hand on Alexius's neck, and felt him swallow roughly.

"I was reserved and bookish. It was a wonder I landed such a beautiful research partner in the first place."

"Livia," Bull said. "She must've loved you a lot." He felt no jealousy talking about Alexius's late wife. He counted this as part of the package. Giving his lover everything they needed, including the ability to grieve over a lost love. That was courtesy.

"She did. And I loved her. Very much. I miss her." Alexius closed his eyes and took a breath, arching into Bull's careful stroking. "I want to be here now, Bull."

"Then be here. I've got you." He gently closed his fist around Alexius's throat. One violent squeeze and that would end it. The thrill, the power of having his lover literally in the palm of his hands, that's what worked for Bull. He would never hurt anyone he was taking care of. His own form of therapy, making sure the people who surrounded him were in good hands. His hands. He stroked faster when Alexius's eyes opened quickly.

There were no sparks, and while Alexius's pulse raced, he didn't appear in any more distress. Bull carefully monitored his breathing and lack of. This wasn't something he did very often, but Alexius didn't strike him as the type who enjoyed being strung up and paddled, as fun as that was. Alexius reached up and gripped his forearm. Slight panic.

"I've got you," Bull said, letting him breathe. "You want to stop?"

An almost imperceptible shake of the head, and Bull squeezed a bit tighter with both hands. Alexius thrust into his fist and he shut his eyes once more. Bull felt the bite of his fingernails in his forearm, and wondered if he would draw blood.

"That's it. Just let go."

He wondered if Alexius ever gave up that control in his life. Maybe that's why he felt the way he did when it came to Felix's illness and his wife's death. He felt responsible, like he should have been able to do something. When in truth there was nothing he could have done. If he could give up this little bit of control, maybe he could also realize that he already did everything he could to save his son. And now that he had, maybe he could let go of that guilt and that grief.

Bull squeezed tighter, watching Alexius gasping for a breath that wouldn't come, and stroked faster. One of Alexius's hands dropped from his arm and grabbed the sheets, twisting roughly. His hips thrust once, then again, and Bull released his throat. A second later, Alexius came hard, gasping for air. Bull lifted his hand to his lips, licking away the salty come, gently stroking Alexius's cheek with his other.

"You all right, kadan?" he asked, the endearment slipping out unconsciously.

Alexius took another breath and nodded. "That… was an experience."

"Never too old for something new. Could teach you a few tricks."

"You're never too old for a spanking," Alexius warned. "Take you over my knee."

Bull laughed. "Sounds tempting. Maybe we'll play with that later."

"I'd like to return the favor," Alexius said, sitting up slowly.

"Yeah, about that…" Bull never required reciprocation, and as much as he did trust Alexius, this type of sex play required a lot of careful practice before it was safe to execute.

"Do calm down. I only meant that I would bring you off." Alexius pulled him close for a kiss, which Bull was happy to return.

"Oh. Well, that's fine," Bull agreed, and removed his belt.

He was expecting a quick handjob. Something satisfactory to get the job done. But when he felt something warm and slick slide over his prick, he knew this would be different. _Magic. Well, no shit it's magic._ It was hard to concentrate, honestly, as Alexius pulled him down to the mattress. He laid back, shoving his pants down his thighs, and Alexius stroked a little faster. It was better than the serving girl last night, Alexius pulling back his foreskin, thumb working over the sensitive head. This was why Bull enjoyed both genders. Not that women didn't know what to do with a cock, but all men seemed to have a better idea of what felt _really_ good. And Alexius had a lot of experience in that, it seemed.

He was also a damned good kisser, and it was hard to tell what was nicer. The hand on his cock or the tongue in his mouth. _Hand. Yep. Definitely hand,_ Bull thought, as some sort of tingling sensation joined the warmth. More magic, probably, and he thought he should've known that a mage would've used magic in bed. It made sense now that he thought about it, but it wasn't something he ever really experienced before. He knew it should've made him uneasy, but he trusted Alexius, and wrapped his arms around him. Alexius made a contented noise, and stroked faster.

Bull broke off with a groan, thighs spreading as far as his pants would let him. He pulled Alexius against him, nice and warm. Another tingling sensation shot up his cock, then again, and he growled and grunted.

"Fuck. Fuck, do it again."

Alexius obliged, but not without an arrogant chuckle. Bull felt beads of sweat on his forehead and chest, and reached up to hold onto the headboard as one of the most intense orgasms he'd ever had wracked his body. He watched himself come, ropy semen covering his stomach, Alexius coaxing the last tremors of pleasure from him, his muscles tensing and coiled. In the next second he relaxed, feeling boneless and exhausted in a way he hadn't for a long time.

"The… fuck?"

Alexius laughed again and kissed his cheek. "The old dog might not be able to learn new tricks, but the old ones suffice just as well, I think."

"You are a cheeky old bastard. No, I got it," Bull said, pushing his hand away as Alexius made to clean him off. He ignored the laughter as he stood and stumbled, zig-zagging to the partitioned off bathing area to wash the come from his stomach. "You and your wife must've had a damn good time."

"We did," Alexius said. "She taught me nearly everything I know."

Bull fixed his pants and emerged, watching Alexius pull his own on. "Why'd you only have one kid? Uh. If it's not too personal to ask."

Alexius waved the apology away. "Felix was a difficult birth for her. We didn't want to take the chance of future complications. He was perfect in every way, though. There was no need for another." He smiled sadly, and looked away. "It's not much of a life, but I would give him mine if I could. He deserves more."

Bull kneeled down on the bed behind Alexius and started to massage his shoulders. "He knows."

Alexius sighed, but leaned into the touch. "You'll come back tonight, I expect?"

"Cards?"

"Yes, I'd like that."

Bull kissed the top of his head. "Try to get some rest in the meantime." He picked his harness up from the floor, shrugged it on, and buckled it.

"Bull?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to antagonize Dorian. I'll ask him to do the same for you."

Bull shrugged. "Only cause you asked."

Alexius smiled. "I appreciate it."

With a tight-lipped smile, Bull left the room. The guards, he noticed, were standing a bit further away from the door. He smirked, adjusted his cock inside his pants, and half-limped away.

_Let 'em talk._

-

The rumors that flew around Skyhold were always farfetched. The one about Dorian keeping a pet demon that ate elves was one of the funnier ones, he thought. However, there was one that was highly damaging to Alexius's reputation and he meant to set it straight. Nearly a month had passed since his mentor's judgment, and he visited him regularly. The guilt he felt at first slowly started to ease, and with the news of Felix's death, they mourned him together with an expensive bottle of Orlesian wine. After that, and at first, Dorian tried to ignore the whispers that Alexius's relationship with Bull was… sexual. No self-respecting Tevinter mage would have sex with a Qunari, would they?

That Dorian's first thought was what Bull's cock looked like meant nothing. Simple curiosities. He had never approved of Alexius's friendship with the Iron Bull, but if it wasn't for him, Alexius might be dead. And Alexius could make his own choices. And neither the Inquisitor nor anyone else saw a problem with their friendship. But the rumors. The rumors needed to stop. Dorian thought he would seek out Alexius first to tell him of them. They would have a laugh over how ridiculous it was, and Dorian would feel better. He might even let the rumors continue, since there would be no truth to them.

The guards were gone and no longer necessary, thankfully, as Alexius had shown 'admirable restraint in his imprisonment, and a penchant for assisting the Inquisition.' It was just as well, as Dorian hated the looks he got whenever he visited Alexius. He tried the door, and found it locked. Frowning, he fished out the spare key, and opened it instead of knocking, which is what he should've done. The image before him would be burned into his memory for years to come.

Iron Bull and Alexius. Together. Alexius's face, his expression one of rapture, eyes closed and lips parted, lying on his back while Iron Bull… and Dorian supposed he no longer had to guess what Bull's cock looked like as he saw it clearly as it thrust inside Alexius. They weren't moving fast and frenzied, like Dorian would with his own partners. A quick fuck was all he was used to. Bull was gripping the headboard with one hand, pumping slowly and steadily. With each thrust, Alexius gasped and shuddered, and Dorian imagined the pleasure he felt, the little nub of nerves, that spot that felt so good that so many of his own lovers seemed to miss.

Bull looked over. Dorian felt himself blush from head to toe, the heat in his face sure to set him aflame.

"You gonna watch or join? Either way, shut the door."

Dorian pulled the door shut quickly, safely on the other side. He fumbled the key, dropped it, picked it up with shaking hands, and managed to lock the door. He forced his legs to move, and as he walked away from the door, realized that he was achingly hard inside his own trousers. Too dumbfounded to process exactly what he saw, he retreated to the tavern for a strong drink.

-

"You planning on drinking the whole tavern?" Bull asked, sitting down next to Dorian. He rapped the bar with his knuckles and Cabot poured him a large tankard.

"I was quite happy contemplating things on my own."

"Happy ain't the word for it," Bull said. "But you're not threatening to kill me, which is nice. But means you're really drunk."

Dorian scoffed, then sipped, making a face at his own drink.

"You got questions," Bull tried again. Of course he did. With Alexius not quite on house arrest but unwilling to push the boundaries of how far from his room he was 'allowed' to go, Bull offered to go instead. He also promised Alexius that he wouldn't start a fight with Dorian. All this, of course, _after_ they finished. For an old guy, Alexius sure had a lot of stamina.

"Many. None to which I want the answers."

"So we'll sit and drink in silence. Sounds good to me."

And they did for some time, Bull tossing down coins and Cabot keeping the beer flowing. The tavern slowly emptied, and Cabot gave them a pointed look.

"Think we'll be here awhile," Bull said. "I'll lock up for you." He caught the key that Cabot tossed at him, watched the dwarf grab his coat and leave. "So, talk?"

Dorian shook his head, then groaned. "Fereldan beer."

Bull laughed. "I know, right? Not the best I ever had. I don't know how you drink that shit."

"I am stubborn."

"Yeah, I got that."

Dorian pushed his empty mug away and pillowed his head on his arms, looking up at Bull through the dim light of the dying fire. "Alexius wouldn't have agreed to it if he thought you were… He's a man of good taste," he finished.

Bull shrugged. "He deserves better than life gave him."

"The best of us," Dorian agreed. "Like his son." He whispered a prayer in Tevene, and closed his eyes briefly. "I look up to him. To see him with you. It was a…" He idly waved a hand before dragging it over his face.

"Yeah. I got that, too." Bull could imagine how unnerving it was. And at least Dorian wasn't acting like an asshole over it. It made it easier to sympathize in a way. He slid a hand onto Dorian's bare shoulder, squeezing gently. "You ever want to join in, I meant that."

Dorian laughed. "Oh. Oh this… I am not sure there's enough alcohol in this bar for me to drink to have this conversation."

Bull smirked. "Alexius doesn't seem the kind of guy who would mind. He likes you, you know. Told me not to piss you off."

"You don't. Not really. You… aren't like the Qunari I know of. It helps." Dorian took up his mug, forgetting it was empty, and frowned. "I think that's me for the night." He stood, stumbled, and Bull caught him before he could face plant.

"Let me walk you back to your room."

"I am perfectly capable of… okay, yes," Dorian agreed, as the world tilted again.

Bull wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him out, locking the tavern and tucking the key under a rock for Cabot to find in the morning. They were silent as they walked back to Dorian's room, and Bull noticed more than a few people still milling around the courtyard throwing them curious looks. _Great,_ he thought. _Just the reputation I need. The Vint-fucker._ But it made him laugh. Gossip mongers would always have their fun, and as long as it didn't interfere with the mission, it didn't matter who you fucked. Not that he was going to fuck Dorian in this state.

"Here," Bull said, depositing Dorian onto his bed. He helped him off with his boots, smirking at the sparkly accoutrements. "So, we all right?"

Dorian curled up, head nestled against his pillow. "If you're asking if you have my blessing to engage…" He paused.

Bull quickly grabbed the trash bin and helped Dorian lean over so he could vomit into it. He poured a cup from the water jug and handed it to him, letting him rinse and spit, and then set the bin out in the hall.

"You want me to stay with you?"

Dorian wiped his mouth off. "No. I'll be all right. Haven't been this drunk in some time."

Bull had to admire his ability to formulate sentences, even if they were a bit halting. "I'm not asking for your blessing. Just if you and I are all right."

"I expect you'd carry on regardless."

"I don't want to make things shitty for _him_."

Dorian, at least, smiled at that. "Then you and I have the same intention." He waved him away. "Let me sleep, Bull. Yes, we're fine."

"You ever need a drinking partner again."

Dorian rolled over. "You mean if I need someone to fetch a vomit bucket."

"Friends do that."

"Are we friends?" Dorian asked, glancing back at him.

Bull shrugged. "Sure, yeah. I guess."

Dorian managed a weak smile before pulling the blanket up over his head. "Take care of him."

"Yeah. I will. Good night, Dorian."

Dorian was already asleep. Bull shook his head and left, shutting the door.

-

Alexius looked up at the knock on the door. Bull stepped inside, a tray of food and a pitcher of their favorite beer.

"Is it that late already?" Alexius asked, taking the tray as Bull shut and locked the door. "I was in the middle of a research paper. The writings of Brother Marconi are terribly fascinating. I lost track of time."

"The lack of clock and sunlight probably don't help. Seriously you should come out for a walk or something."

"Perhaps in the morning," Alexius said, a bit distracted. He cleared the desk and poured two cups from the pitcher, handing one to Bull when he sat on the bed.

It was a weird, comfortable routine they'd fallen into over the weeks, only interrupted when Bull ran an assignment with the Inquisitor.

"We're going to Orlais next week."

Alexius smirked. "I'm sorry."

Bull shrugged. "Opportunity to piss off Orlesian nobles?" He grinned.

They ate in companionable conversation, Alexius talking about his latest project, Bull filling him in on the gossip. After, they fell into bed together as they usually did, neither trying to define what it was between them. But Alexius found that if this was to be the way he was destined to spend his remaining years, he decided that serving the Inquisition wasn't such a bad thing after all.


End file.
